Boysetsfire
Bathory's Sainthood
Do you feel alive now - now that you own the deadPreying on their corpses - their hearts no longer fedYour sainthood is obvious on every starving faceYour deceptions gives us a way to seperateThe poor from their hate the rich from the stoneGenuflect away the sins that we've knownSure one percent rules, but heaven's made of goldSo chalk it up to folly and consequence aloneDo we really want, do we really need a bastard massiah, wrapped up in the dream of patriotic clean white washed desireAnd every time the real war's defined - the trenches are filled to hide battle linesTorches to bridges and bridges to torture headlines distort what we see as our bordersAnd what gives us the right to feel with remorse for a God they created a God for the poorFor bathory we're bleeding out the devil hides in angelic shroudsBlasphemy as speaking out we've asked for it for more of the same sad scheme of ghettos created by the power eliteFor our minds and souls burning no longer for freedom invokedJust more of the same
From Letras Mania